


Point of View

by AmberBrown



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drunk Sex, M/M, Misunderstandings, Perceived Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberBrown/pseuds/AmberBrown
Summary: When Athos gets drunk and confused, things happen that he regrets. But he is the only one that regrets it.
Relationships: Athos/Aramis
Comments: 1
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was an idea that would not leave me alone. So I bashed it out today. I hope you enjoy it.

Athos took another swig of his wine. He waited for the wine to overpower him and take away the thoughts, but he had not yet drunk enough for that to happen. Sometimes he needed the thoughts to stay in his head, they helped him to focus, he used the anger they brought to fuel him. If he was about to go into battle, he let them bubble to the surface, let them take over. When he needed to be more focused on the moment, he beat those thoughts down, held them at bay. And sometimes, when he did not need to rush into battle or act in a calm and considered manner, he used the wine to help him. 

He would drink enough to make him forget, it was cliché, he knew, but it worked. For a few hours, he would forget. He forgot other things as well, but that did not matter. He would drink and he would wake up in his own bed. Then he would deal with the thumping headache and get on with his day, generally after a quiet thank you to Porthos for seeing him safely back to his rooms. 

Today he wanted to drink himself into oblivion. He was not quite at the point of no return, but he was not far off. He knew his movements would be clumsy, he would probably have to be careful what he said. That was always difficult as he got closer to forgetting, he went through a phase of knowing what he was doing but not really being able to stop himself from doing it. That was the dangerous moment. 

He wondered how long it would be before Porthos decided it was time for him to be hauled out of the seat and manhandled to his bed? 

Athos was starting to think the time could not come quick enough. 

Aramis was up to his usual tricks again. Leaning into him and making lewd comments. His friend had started out a few weeks after they had first met, making guarded comments about his sexual inclinations, trying to work out if Athos was the same. It was clear to Athos that Aramis very much wanted to sleep with him. Athos had eventually admitted that he had experience with men, had even had a brief relationship with one. Aramis had taken on a smug self-congratulating look when Athos had confessed. Porthos had laughed out loud. 

That had been four years ago. Since that time Aramis had taken it on as a challenge to get Athos into bed. Athos had continually refused point-blank. But Aramis never seemed to take the hint. 

‘Porthos, just go and talk to her,’ Aramis said to his friend.

Porthos had been flirting with the serving woman for most of the evening. It had been clear that she was enjoying it and encouraging it.

Porthos grinned, ‘she’s married,’ he said.

‘And?’ retorted Aramis with a grin of his own. ‘Her husband’s not here, hasn’t been around for months.’

Porthos looked at the buxom woman who was using her natural attributes to encourage the men at a table across the tavern to buy more wine. She succeeded. 

Athos watched as his friend considered his options for a few seconds before nodding to himself and pushing up from the table.

‘Have fun,’ said Aramis, as Porthos weaved his way across the tavern to intercept the woman. 

They watched the pair have a brief conversation, the serving woman was acting coy, but clearly interested in Porthos’ proposition. The woman stroked her hand down Porthos’ arm as they continued to talk.

‘Guess he’s got himself a warm bed for the night,’ said Aramis with a sly smile, before turning back to Athos. ‘Guess I’ll have to see you to yours then.’

Athos sighed inwardly, he had not drunk enough to really need help back to his rooms, but he had been pretending to be more inebriated than he actually was. Aramis tended to leave him alone when he stopped responding to the advances. He did not want to upset his friend; he did not want Aramis to know he was deliberately trying to brush him off. 

The truth was that he wanted to sleep with Aramis, he knew it would be good, but he did not want to when his mind was filled with thoughts, he wished he could chase away. 

Thoughts of her. 

He reached out for the cup of wine; he suppressed the thoughts again with another swig. When he looked over the rim of the cup, he could see Aramis watching him. The predatory look in his eyes was arousing. Athos wondered what Aramis was like in bed. Wondered if he would ever find out. 

From the way his friend talked about sex, Athos got the impression he liked it hard and fast. A quick fuck in an alleyway, getting on with it, getting it done. Aramis never talked in detail about his conquests, male or female, none of them did. There had been talk once of a very drunken encounter between Aramis and Porthos, but Porthos had rolled his eyes and told Aramis it was never going to happen again and to not even consider trying. Athos wondered if Aramis liked the thrill of the chase. Rather like going into battle, the build-up and the actual fight could be exhilarating. Aramis was a man who was rarely still, always one step away from getting himself in trouble and yet always charming and friendly.

He, on the other hand, liked to enjoy his time in bed, liked to be slow and considered. The few people he had taken to bed since… her… had reciprocated his manner. There had been passion, it had been cathartic, a chance to forget the past and live in the moment. If he ever did accept Aramis’ advances that is what he would want between them. He was not prepared to be led up the back of a tavern and use a crate to lean on. No. Athos would want to be in the safety of his rooms and to take his time. He hid a smile as he wondered if Aramis would enjoy it as well.

But he was not in the mood for it at that moment, and he had already drunk too much to enjoy it. He was enough of a gentleman to know he wanted to be able to give his friend his full attention if they did ever find themselves in bed together. Athos was of the opinion that he was at least two drinks beyond that point. 

Deciding that he needed to get away from Aramis he deliberately put his cup down too hard, making sure he nearly tipped it over in the process. He was pleased to see Aramis had been taken in.

‘Time to get you home, my friend,’ he said in that jovial way of his. 

Athos allowed Aramis to pull him up to stand and pretended to make an effort to reach the half-empty cup of wine again. Aramis eased his hand away. Athos had to remind himself he was not supposed to be enjoying the touch, but he was. He was enjoying Aramis’ arm around his waist, enjoying the gentle encouragement to get him to walk from the tavern. Away from his morose thoughts. At least that was what Aramis probably thought Athos was leaving behind. He had never told them about her, they knew there was something in his past that haunted him, but they respected his decision to keep it to himself. 

‘One day,’ Aramis was saying, ‘you’ll get over it, whatever it is. One day you’ll see the light… I look forward to that day.’

Aramis squeezed him a little tighter. Athos was starting to wish he was a little drunker than he really was. Too drunk to react.

Had Aramis just looked longingly at a dark alleyway?

Athos needed to be alone, he wished Porthos had stayed with them. Porthos was always the one that took him home. His friend would take him up to his rooms, sit him on the bed, take his doublet and boots off him and push him to lie down. There would be no small talk, it would be done and Porthos would leave. Athos knew that would not be the case with Aramis. He knew Aramis would never take advantage of him in his current state, but Athos still did not want to be alone with him. He did not really like Aramis seeing him drunk. He wondered if he had ever said anything when he was really drunk, something that hinted at the reason he so frequently searched for the answers in the bottom of a bottle of wine. Did Aramis suspect that his melancholy was to do with a woman?

His jumbled thoughts continued to flounder about in his drink addled mind. He wanted to sleep with Aramis. He did not want to just fuck him. He wanted something different with his friend. But Athos was not sure that was what Aramis wanted. Was he just another conquest? If they ever did sleep together would Aramis, then move onto the next person who seemed vaguely unobtainable?

A hand on his hip, slipping into his pocket, brought him back to his senses. He blinked a few times, had he drunk more than he thought. 

‘Stop moving, Athos,’ Aramis said, ‘I might find something in there that you don’t want me to find.’

His words were full of innuendo. Aramis was always ready with a quick pun or risky come back. 

After Aramis had fished the key from his pocket, they stumbled into the small hallway. Aramis leaned him against the wall, holding him there as he pushed the door closed. Athos allowed Aramis to guide him up the stairs, deliberately missing a few of the steps. He had to keep up the pretence of being ready to sleep off the wine. He needed Aramis to leave him, the longer Aramis was there the more Athos would want him to stay. 

They reached his sparsely decorated rooms. Aramis forced him towards the bed, firmly pushing him to sit on the edge. His friend knelt in front of him and started to undo his weapons belts.

‘The times I’ve wanted to do this,’ Aramis said, although Athos knew he was speaking to himself. ‘Bring you home and strip you off…’

Athos wavered a bit, Aramis steadied him.

‘How much have you had?’

The weapons belts were hooked over the nearest chair, out of reach. Was Aramis worried he might try to use the weapons? 

Athos looked down at Aramis’ nimble fingers unbuttoning his doublet, taking a little longer than was necessary. He looked at Aramis who was concentrating on his task. The handsome man had a wistful, faraway look in his eyes. 

‘One day,’ Aramis said quietly, ‘I’d like to be doing this for real. What are you like? What do you like?’

Athos realised he had been a little too good with his act. Aramis really did think he was too far gone to know what was happening. Aramis was talking to him, thinking he would not remember, thinking that he was unaware of what was going on.

‘I like the idea of you taking control… Not that I favour being dominated… oh no. I like variety. But with you, the idea of you… being firm with me…’

Aramis sighed.

‘Some of the men I’ve been with… the normal men… not soldiers, they think that I want to be in charge. But sometimes it’s good to give in to someone else, let them lead… There was a duchess once… tied me up, kept me as her pet for two days… it was glorious.’

Athos was amused at the smile that played across Aramis’ face. He could well imagine his friend submitting himself completely to a confided, competent woman. Aramis never discriminated. 

‘Obviously, I like to be equals as well… but sometimes…’

Aramis pushed Athos’ doublet off his shoulders and down his arms. Athos held his breath as he felt Aramis trailing his fingers over his shirt at the same time, the thin fabric all that separated them, drawing out the moment of closeness. Athos felt his cock twitch. Again, he wished he really was drunk. It was getting harder to pretend. Once Aramis was gone, he knew he would have to deal with himself… the images he would be able to conjure in his mind would be very fulfilling. 

He watched Aramis hang his doublet over the chair before kneeling in front of him again. Athos hoped his arousal was not obvious. If it was Aramis chose not to react. Instead, he started to pull Athos’ boots off, putting them to the side neatly.

‘As soldiers, we’re seen as powerful… but sometimes it’s good to give up that power… sometimes it’s-’

Athos found that he could not contain himself any longer.


	2. Chapter 2

Aramis sighed as he thought about the fun he had with his assorted bedfellows. He continued to idly talk, knowing Athos would not remember what he said.

‘Some of the men I’ve been with… the normal men… not soldiers, they think that I want to be in charge. But sometimes it’s good to give in to someone else, let them lead… There was a duchess once… tied me up, kept me as her pet for two days… it was glorious.’

He paused for a moment remembering the duchess teasing him, making him last for hours before he came. At least it had felt like hours. 

‘Obviously, I like to be equals as well… but sometimes…’

Forcing himself to focus, Aramis went back to the task in hand. Athos was still wavering. Aramis was sure if he was not keeping his friend steady he would simply slump to the side. Getting him stripped of his doublet would be a lot harder if Athos was in a prone position. Although… getting Athos in a prone position would not be all bad… under the right circumstances of course. 

Much as Aramis desperately wanted to get Athos into bed, he would not dream of doing so when his friend was not aware of what he was doing. The thought of stripping Athos completely filled his mind. He knew that once he got back to his own rooms, he would have no problem dealing with his threatening arousal.

The buttons of the doublet undone he pushed the supple leather over his friend's shoulders. They made eye contact for a few seconds. Aramis smiled; Athos looked vacant. He knew his friend would not remember anything he had said. He might not even remember who had brought him back to his room. It would amuse Aramis greatly if Athos thanked Porthos in the morning. 

One day, thought Aramis, one day they would sleep together. And despite what Athos probably thought about him, he would make sure it was a drawn-out enjoyable time. Aramis was not going to waste his opportunity on a quick fuck. Not with Athos. Athos deserved better than that. Whatever it was that haunted his friend and left him needing to drown his sorrows in too much wine made Aramis want to take him to bed and show him that life was not all bad.

He slid the doublet down Athos’ arms, the action forced him to kneel up and closer to his friend. Aramis had to stop himself from leaning in for a kiss. He was not going to take advantage of Athos; he would not lower himself to the level of some of the other people he had been with. 

More than once he had woken up with a man and not really remembered getting there. He was sure he had been willing, but the lack of memories was disconcerting.

After carefully laying the doublet over the nearest chair he knelt in front of his friend who was watching him with hazy eyes. Aramis wondered what his friend was thinking. Was he so far gone he did not even know he was being put to bed?

As he continued pondering his own sex life, he pulled Athos’ boots off and put them to the side, out of the way so that Athos would not trip over them in the morning.

‘As soldiers, we’re seen as powerful… but sometimes it’s good to give up that power… sometimes it’s-’

The move from his friend was so quick and forceful he was taken completely by surprise. Something that rarely happened to him. He was always alert, always the first to react to an attack.

But this. This was so unexpected Aramis had no time to react. Athos grabbed his wrists, his hands crushingly tight around them. Before Aramis could even gasp in pain his world upended. An explosion of pain in the back of his head left him with greyed vision and a fight to remain conscious.

As the room above him span in a colliding cacophony of fractured images Aramis was aware of movement. He was the one being moved, but he could not focus, could not work out what was happening. He felt his body being pulled up; his head tilted backwards. He was not able to support himself, could not coordinate his movements. He was pushed onto his side, the movement bringing fresh confusion to his vision. He thought his arm was being manipulated, his shoulder pushed back and forward a couple of times, the feeling of something being dragged across his skin. 

The displaced images that hurried to catch up with each other started to join together. The grey began to recede. The pain faded to a dull roar.

Aramis was lying on his back on the floor of Athos’ rooms. His weapons and doublet had gone. He could not work out where they had gone to, he knew he had been wearing them before he had hit his head. Now he was not. 

Tugging at his waist made him force his head up a little. He wondered if he was hallucinating. 

Athos was clumsily undoing his breeches, pulling at the buttons, popping them open and pushing the leather apart. Athos had an expression of focused concentration, the expression he always got when he was determined to complete what he had set out to do. Aramis wondered what Athos had set out to do.

When Athos started to roughly pull Aramis’ breeches over his hips, he had a fair idea what Athos wanted to do. 

But Athos was drunk.

Did he really know what he was doing? Aramis was actually surprised that his friend had managed to coordinate himself enough to get as far as he had. It would not have surprised Aramis if the excess wine caught up with Athos and he slumped over. 

Aramis wished the confused feelings would leave his head and he could properly concentrate. He wanted to enjoy what was about to happen. If Athos managed to see it through Aramis wanted to remember every moment, even if it was just a quick fuck. He felt his cock stir at the thought. Athos was going to fuck him.

He fully intended to remonstrate with Athos for pushing him to the ground. The few minutes he had lost as he got his orientation back meant Athos had been forced to start on his own. His drunk friend had not noticed he had hurt him. Aramis would forgive Athos for his clumsiness. Perhaps the next time and Aramis knew he would want a next time, they could sleep together a bit more calmly.

But at the same time, Athos was doing exactly what Aramis had been talking about. He had said he liked to be dominated sometimes. And to be dominated by Athos was thrilling. As the pain in his head subsided enough for him to be fully focused, he knew he could put a stop to what was happening - if he wanted to - and Athos would know that as well. If Athos had not been uncoordinated enough to knock him to the floor with too much force at the start, they would have been evenly matched throughout with Aramis choosing to allow Athos to take the lead. 

Athos had not looked at him, he was focused on his work, but seemed to be struggling a little with the leather breeches. Aramis tried to help but found himself grabbed again and pinned down; Athos firmly pushed each of Aramis’ hands back against the cold stone floor. Aramis entwined his fingers with Athos’. He was pleasantly surprised when Athos shifted his position to straddle him and leaned forward.

The kiss was firm and passionate; hungry. Aramis wanted it to carry on forever, he was breathless as Athos pulled away leaving him longing for more. Aramis could not read his friend's expression, could not work out what he was thinking. 

How aware was he? 

Athos went back to pulling Aramis’ breeches down, pulling them off completely. Aramis looked at his feet in confusion, wondering how long it had taken him to get over the bang on the head. He had been vaguely aware of his doublet being taken off him, but not of Athos removing his boots. 

He managed to push himself up to sit, watching as Athos paused for a few seconds looking at him. Aramis wondered what his friend was considering. He hoped he was not about to change his mind, not after they had got as far as they had. He decided to help by pulling his shirt off. 

The billowing shirt proved a little harder to remove after the uncomfortable encounter between his head and the floor. He lost his way a little and struggled to pull the garment over his head. Hands on his arms grabbing at the shirt were a bit of a surprise, particularly when his friend was again a little rougher than he really needed to be. He was sure he would be left with visible reminders of their liaison. Badges of honour he would wear proudly. 

He wondered if Athos was always so firm. Did he need that control? Some people did. Aramis did not mind, although he would have liked them both to have started off as equals. But perhaps, Athos knocking him to the floor had actually levelled them out. Athos had been very drunk, and now Aramis was probably going to be suffering a headache the next morning as well. It was not how Aramis envisioned his first time with Athos, but he was still enjoying himself, although it would have been better without the thump in the back of his head. 

Athos grabbed him around the shoulders and forced him around and up slightly, pushing him against the side of the bed, pinning him there. The quick move left Aramis disorientated again, the room took a while to settle down. When his vision cleared for the second time, he realised he was only being held where he was by one hand in the centre of his back. Carefully, with deference to his head injury, Aramis twisted around. The sight he saw excited him. Athos had pushed his breeches and underclothes down and was busy working his cock. A small bottle sat on the floor next to him, the familiar glisten telling Aramis what was in it. Aramis smiled, the anticipation of Athos pinning him down over the bed and taking him with minimal preparation made him hard. He could hardly believe after all those years of trying he was finally going to have sex with Athos. He wished it was without the sore head but that was a small price to pay. 

‘I could help you with that,’ he said, hoping his words were not slurred. 

The last thing he wanted when he was so close to his goal was for Athos to realise, he was hurt and stop the proceedings. No, Aramis wanted it too much to care about a bang on the head. 

He tried to twist around, to reach out a hand to his friend, he was tantalisingly close to his goal when Athos reacted. Grabbing the hand firmly and pushing himself to his knees. Athos shuffled around, twisting Aramis’ arm up behind him, forcing him back onto the bed. Aramis suppressed the gasp of pain as Athos twisted further than was necessary. His inebriated friend had lost his judgement, as the twisting got to the point that Aramis was about to be forced to ask Athos to stop, he let go. Aramis pulled his arm back around to his front, glad that Athos could not see the pain the move had caused him. 

Aramis took a couple of deep breaths as he waited for the fresh hurt to fade away. He had enjoyed a few rough encounters with men but had not expected Athos to be quite as firm as he was being. 

As Aramis breathed out slowly, he was aware of Athos settling himself behind him. The moment had arrived. Aramis put his full concentration into what was about to happen. 

Athos’ hands were on his hips, Aramis was pleased his friend was not going to keep him pinned down. He was able to push himself up slightly and take a few deep breaths. 

As Athos pushed into him Aramis closed his eyes and hummed with satisfaction. It had been a long time coming but he had finally got his wish. Athos was firm with his thrusts, but Aramis could take it. He was experienced enough to put up with the slight discomfort at the start and quickly relaxed enough to enjoy himself. 

He managed to slip his right arm down towards his own throbbing cock, wanting to build up a rhythm of his own to match the man behind him. 

Athos’ breaths were coming in quick huffs as he moved. Aramis reached his peak gasping as he did so. He was not sure if Athos was aware, but he started to move with more force, coming a few seconds later, collapsing forward as he finished. 

Aramis could not think of a more satisfying sexual encounter.


	3. Chapter 3

Athos reached up and rested his hand across his eyes, trying not to screw them shut against the beam of unwelcome sunlight. He turned his head slightly and stared at the ceiling. The familiar steady thump of a headache caused by too much wine assaulted him. He had suffered far worse headaches. He had been expecting to suffer more, there had been a plan to drink himself to oblivion.

Something floated into his conscience. A few images with more crowding his mind. 

Aramis looking shocked and surprised. 

Grabbing his friend by the wrists and squeezing hard to make sure he had a good grip.

Pushing him to the ground but losing his own balance and not being able to control Aramis’ fall. 

Aramis being still for a few seconds. 

Pulling his friend's weapons off him.

Knowing he needed to get the man’s boots off. 

Kissing Aramis. 

Athos licked his lips, imagining he could still taste his friend, a mixture of wine and the stew they had eaten on his breath. The scrape of his beard. Wanting the kiss to continue but also wanting to get on with what Aramis had wanted.

More images.

Forcing Aramis out of his shirt, twisting him onto the bed and holding him there. 

Had he forced himself on his friend?

When he had pushed Aramis to the ground had he knocked him out and then taken advantage of him?

Why would he do that? How could he have done that?

He had been affected by the alcohol, but not so much that he did not know what he was doing. If he had drunk too much, he would not have been able to do what he had done. 

He had fucked Aramis. Pinned him to his bed and fucked him. 

Aramis had looked shocked and confused. 

Frightened?

What had he done?

His thoughts had been confused; he had continually thought about her. He had never been firm with her, never hurt her in bed. Why had he thought of her as he pushed his friend about?

He became aware of a presence next to him. 

Aramis was lying on his side with his back to him. He was only wearing his underclothes, which were loose, the ties trailing over his hips. 

Athos looked down at himself, he was similarly dressed, although his underclothes had been done up. He had been cleaned up. There was no sign of their activity other than a couple of damp clothes lying by the washstand, the rest of his clothes were neatly folded on the nearest chair, with Aramis’ clothes on the next chair.

Athos was confused. Why was Aramis still there? He had obviously not been hurt enough to be unable to manage to clean them both up and tidy the room a little. 

He slowly eased himself up onto his elbow and looked at his friend. Aramis had bruises coming out on his back, what looked like a handprint, as well as general bruising around his arms. 

Athos reached up and gently felt the back of his friend's head, finding the slight bump he had hoped would not be there. 

The attention caused Aramis to pull away slightly, putting him in danger of toppling forward off the bed. Athos eased Aramis onto his back. It took his friend a couple of minutes to fully wake up giving Athos time to find more bruises. 

Both Aramis’ wrists were marked, the outline of fingers - his fingers - were obvious. He had a memory of grasping Aramis’ wrists tightly but was shocked at the damage he had caused. He looked down at Aramis’ hips, still exposed due to the loose underclothes. More bruises. 

Athos wanted to be anywhere else but lying next to the man he had surely abused the night before. The regret was all-consuming. He could not believe what he had done. 

‘Morning.’

Athos looked at Aramis who was looking up at him. His expression was not one of fear or regret. Not one of accusation or hate. 

Aramis looked happy. 

Content. 

‘I… I cannot begin to…’

Athos could not find the words. He did not know what to say.

Aramis smiled.

‘I will admit,’ said Aramis, ‘that it was not quite how I imagined it… but I would not want to change it…’

Athos was struggling to comprehend why Aramis was not pushing him away and rushing from the room.

‘I hurt you…’

Aramis lifted his left arm, rolling the shoulder slightly with an obvious wince before looking at his wrist. 

‘Yeah,’ he said with a small nod, ‘I could have done without the wrists and the arm twisting… but what’re a few bruises between friends.’

‘Your head.’

‘Well you didn’t mean that, did you? You were drunk… I’m actually impressed you managed it at all.’

Athos started to understand. But it was horrible. 

‘I held you down…’

‘I could have pushed you off… if I’d wanted to…’

Athos stared at him. 

‘Although you could have waited until I’d got my act together after you pushed me onto the floor. I missed the start. You had me pretty much naked before I could enjoy myself.’

‘Enjoy yourself?’

It was Aramis’ turn to stare with confusion. 

‘Aramis, I pinned you down. I forced you.’

‘No, you didn’t.’

‘You’re covered in bruises-’

Aramis shook his head before screwing his eyes shut for a few seconds. Athos realised the action had aggravated his head injury. He wanted to reach out and offer comfort but thought it would be wrong.

‘Athos,’ Aramis said once he could focus again. ‘If I had not enjoyed what we did, would I still be here now? I may have been suffering after you tried to knock me out, but I still had enough strength and wit to push you away if I wanted to.’

Athos tried to believe what his friend was saying.

‘And I cleaned us both up. You pretty much passed out afterwards. I’ll admit I was a bit dizzy by then, but I wanted to make sure we could both sleep comfortably… you don’t mind that I stayed do you? I wasn’t sure about walking back to my room with the world spinning around as much as it was last night.’

‘I didn’t have the right to take advantage of you.’

‘You didn’t take advantage of me.’

‘I think you were unconscious for a few seconds…’

Aramis looked away.

‘I know I was a bit out of it, but I knew enough to know that I really wanted you to continue and I know I could have pushed you away. And Athos you were pretty drunk.’

Athos started to feel guilty. He felt bad enough for taking advantage of Aramis after he had knocked him to the ground, but to find out his friend thought he was drunker than he actually had been was horrible.

‘Did I… did I hurt you… when I…’

Aramis smiled, the smile lighting up his eyes, ‘no, my friend. You know I have experience; it was a little uncomfortable to start with but oh so satisfying. You’re really very good.’

The compliment was unwelcome. How could Aramis be so calm and collected after what had happened? 

Athos wondered if he should tell his friend that his mind had continually wondered that he had been thinking of her. He decided not to.

Aramis shuffled himself up the bed a little and propped himself up to sit. Athos managed to twist himself around to lean on the other wall, they looked at each other. The light was bright enough that each bruise and graze across Aramis’ skin stood out starkly. A reminder to Athos of what he had done. 

‘Look, if you feel guilty, although I don’t know why you could take your time next time. We could have some proper fun, draw it out a bit…’

‘Next time?’

Athos did not like the look of worry that crossed his friends face. 

‘You do want a next time… don’t you?’

Did he want a next time? He had been so shocked at what he had done that he had not even contemplated the next few minutes let alone a next time with his friend. 

Athos was still trying to reconcile himself that he had not forced himself onto his friend. Although he had a little. At least his muddled memories made it feel that way. And Aramis had taken a knock to the head, was he remembering the encounter correctly. Perhaps his mind had hidden his real feelings away? 

Would they ever know for sure?

He had always wanted to sleep with Aramis and spontaneous encounters were what his friend liked. At least that was the impression he had got. Perhaps somewhere in his mind, that was what he had given to his friend, but the drink had clouded his judgement, confused his thoughts.

Athos realised he had not answered Aramis’ question, his friend was watching him with concern. 

He nodded, watching the relief on Aramis’ face.

‘But you’re right,’ he said. ‘Next time we should take our time.’

A smile spread across Aramis’ face, ‘I would like that very much.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it.


End file.
